


Collared

by Foxglove_Fiction



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (not exactly but I'd rather be safe than trigger anyone), Angst, Collars, Eating Disorders, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slavery, Starvation, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxglove_Fiction/pseuds/Foxglove_Fiction
Summary: Tony Stark has never exactly been the pinnacle of morality, but anyone who knows him knows that's a thing he's put every effort into over the past several years. Regardless, he's still always had certain guiding principles that have carried him through the trials and tribulations of his life.Unfortunately, the situation he's been put in is threatening to drag him into moral depths he's not sure he'll recover from - after all, there's no right choice for his predicament, only the choice he can continue to live with.Please read the beginning note; tags are subject to change.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 48
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Please Read:**
> 
> **THE TAGS/CHAPTER COUNT ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE.** Please be aware that this story is _not kind_ and **will get darker**.
> 
> Unlike most of my stories, this one isn't fully outlined primarily because it's for venting/catharsis, which is much easier to do by simply writing as I'm inspired to write at any given time. This story will update rather erratically as a result of the lack of outline and it being a matter of writing for venting, so do not expect consistent updates on it.
> 
> Please mind your own mental health and well-being before venturing too deep into this one! What is cathartic for me may not be for you, and that's okay!

“Stephen, you need to eat…”

He didn’t know how long it had been since the sorcerer had eaten - at least three days, given the man hadn’t eaten even once since Wong dropped him off. 

A thick collar hung around Stephen’s neck and there was very little Tony knew about it so far beyond what Wong had told him. A part of him wished he didn’t even know that much.

It appeared to be some sort of obedience collar if Wong’s intuition was correct, but even Wong wasn’t precisely clear on the details of it. It could have been one of several versions of the collar that the race they’d been dealing with had and all of them had slightly different functions. 

Making heads or tails of it all was proving to be a hassle. The damn thing was resistant to magic. It suppressed Stephen’s, but also kept Wong’s magic from interfering with it. Wong didn’t know if it was a technological barrier or if it was the properties of the metal itself having that effect. 

There was a reason Wong had left the sorcerer with Tony.

“If anyone can figure out what that collar is for and how to remove it, I expect it would be you,” the sorcerer had admitted. “In the meantime, I have to do my best to take Stephen’s place. I’ll look for whatever information I can find on it... “

He hadn’t heard from Wong since, and Stephen had yet to speak a word. 

Tony’s good humour was beginning to run thin with the recognition that Stephen’s health was deteriorating and any ideas he’d had of this being a fun opportunity to explore his crush on the man were dragged to a grinding halt. Stephen’s cheekbones had gone from sharp enough to cut to almost skeletal; his eyes were sunken and unfocused. 

His lack of nutrition was making him unsteady and sloppy, and Tony still had yet to figure out how to minimize the shocks of agony Stephen seemed to endure each time he did certain things.

From what he could tell the collar had decided Tony was his master and Tony had learned to be very cautious of what he said and exactly how he said it lest the collar interpret it as some order that could be disobeyed. 

Stephen, for his part, seemed to be aware often enough of when something was phrased as an order and was on top of it, but Tony had no way of knowing how the sorcerer knew. 

It was aggravating. 

He’d never known Stephen to keep his silence like this and he hated it.

He missed Stephen’s voice. He missed their lunch dates, their gentle prodding and snarky banter, and the man laughing and smiling.

God did he miss Stephen’s smile.

Stephen sat staring at the food placed on the coffee table. He refused to sit on the couch, a chair, or at the dinner table, but he would at least tuck himself near the coffee table which was low enough to eat off from his spot on the floor. 

If only Stephen would do it.

He could see the hunger in his eyes, and Stephen’s gaze was fixed on the food, but he still wouldn’t reach to touch it and it was driving Tony crazy.

“Do I have to make it an order for you to listen to me?” he asked after a moment, but Stephen didn’t move from his spot more than to glance briefly in Tony’s direction. “... Stephen, eat your dinner.”

Stephen’s face contorted slightly and he reached out to grab part of the quartered sandwich and took a couple of bites. He took it slowly and Tony couldn’t blame him - he’d eaten too quickly after his captivity and paid the price for it. He imagined Stephen knew how bad it would be for him if he rushed himself. 

Doctors would be good about that kind of thing, right?

He’d barely swallowed two bites when he dropped the sandwich, his hands moving to cover his mouth. Tony knew that look and barely had the time to grab him a bowl before he threw up mostly chewed bits of the sandwich. 

The sorcerer curled up on the floor, holding his stomach, his expression clearly pained.

Tony wrung his hands as he tried to figure out what to do with him.  _ Why? _ Why hadn’t that worked? 

“Stephen, that’s enough,” a simple command to make sure the collar wasn’t punishing him for not continuing to eat. Still, Stephen curled into a tight ball on the floor, holding his stomach and gasping for air.

“... fuck I hate this,” Tony sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, “and I can’t imagine how much more you must hate it.”

Stephen made a soft noise in response but little else. He wasn’t trembling or jerking like he was having a seizure - a good sign, at least the collar wasn’t actively punishing him. That didn’t bring them any closer to figuring out how to feed him.

“Some water then… clean up a little, and we’ll head down to the lab for some more tests, shall we?” he suggested, reaching out a hand to help Stephen stand. 

“We’ll figure this out. I’m not going to let you starve to death,” Tony reassured the other quietly as Stephen leaned against him on the way to the bathroom.

It didn’t take long for Stephen to get cleaned up, the bowl dealt with swiftly enough before Tony led Stephen down to the lab, aggravated. 

“Fri, I wanna get several more scans of this thing. Superficial and as in depth as possible. We need this off of him, yesterday. The metal itself might not be identifiable - I still want you working on breaking that down - but let's try and focus in on how this thing ticks.”

“Understood, boss,” the AI responded swiftlyas Tony directed Stephen to stand on a grid marked on the floor, leaving him in place staring at the floor.

He couldn’t help but remember how beautiful Stephen’s eyes were under the lights here before all of this. He hadn’t seen them in a while or been able to marvel at the extraordinary diversity of colours that flickered in those intelligent eyes, changing under the various lights. He missed those as much as he missed the man’s smile.

_ All the more reason to get this dealt with, _ Tony thought, shaking his head as he set up a couple of scanners and set to work.

Stephen was still and silent as machines  _ whirred _ around him, lights flitting over his body in a cascade of rays and his head lifting pointedly only when asked. Tony needed a slightly less impeded view of the collar that he was sure they’d both developed a mutual hatred of.

Four rings of slightly different metals were layered in lines across what Tony’s scans suggested was an inner ring. By all accounts, it appeared the four outer rings could move but he couldn’t seem to spin them in any way on his own. 

Each ring had several sigils on it that were entirely unfamiliar to him, though over the course of their scans he had Friday scan each of them to compare to known languages at a later point.

Stephen’s pliability through the scans felt rather awkward when Tony recognized how feisty he was used to the man being. 

“Being demure is an odd look on you,” Tony sighed as the sorcerer tilted his head to one side to give the engineer better access to the contraption around his neck. He wasn’t surprised that Strange didn’t respond.

Part of him wanted to simply dismiss Stephen when they finished, finding his presence particularly draining given the consistent reminder that he was failing someone. Someone he cared about, no less, yet he couldn't leave well enough alone.

Stephen was suffering through all of this too, and Tony was the only friend he had around. He couldn't imagine Stephen would want to be going through this all on his own, or the impression it would give for Tony to simply dismiss him.

They were in the hallway on the way back to his living area when Friday’s voice rang out over the speakers.

“You have a guest in the living room, boss,” she informed him cheerfully, leaving Tony to sigh heavily, glancing briefly at Stephen and wondering how best to explain this situation to anyone else.

“Who is it?”

“Master Wong,” she responded simply and Tony felt relief wash over him, quickening his pace to the living area.

He was ready for any good news at all and if Wong was here he had to have some answers at least. This was the most hopeful he’d been in days, but any optimism towards a found solution was dashed the moment he saw Wong’s expression.

His face was set and solemn as he looked between Tony and Stephen, clearly taking in the man’s sunken features and slumped posture without too much surprise. He gestured to the couch wordlessly, and Tony’s chest tightened as he moved to the bar instead, pouring himself a drink.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Wong?” he asked as lightly as he could, hoping maybe he was reading the man’s stoic expression wrong.

“I’ve found something. You may want to sit for this,” Wong suggested, though when Tony looked up he found the master was looking at Stephen, who took a seat on the floor fairly promptly, nearly falling into the position. The way he caught himself on his hands made Tony wince sympathetically despite not making sound as he settled into place.

“So,” Tony started as he took a sip of his whiskey, “what did you find, exactly?”

“It’s an obedience collar, as I assumed before,” Wong clarified as he turned his attention to Tony entirely. “There are a few different types of them in use on that particular planet, but sadly there’s not much left of the civilization there, so finding beings who could explain the technology seems… dismal at best. In comparing with other devices after some searching, it seems it’s some sort of collar to train individuals as sex slaves.”

Tony nearly spat his drink out as his hand tightened around the glass. 

“Oh?” His tone was carefully neutral as he avoided so much as glancing towards the sorcerer on his knees beside the couch. “And how do we take it off? Did you find that?”

“Not as of yet. If it was so easy to find I imagine the slaves in question would have simply taken the things off themselves,” the sorcerer reasoned.

“... then what exactly do we need to do? How does it work? How do I feed him?” He felt the dread building up in his stomach as questions fell out of his mouth, but held tight to his composure - and his glass.

“For all of these collars there is one similarity - the slave must earn their keep. This involves various duties, but in Stephen’s case it’s very likely-”

“No.” The word came out swiftly and firmly as nausea wormed its way up to his throat. He took a quick sip of his drink in an effort to force it back down even as he shook his head.

Wong gave him a stern look before continuing, “-that those duties are sexual in nature.”

“No,” Tony reiterated. “No way, not a chance.”

“Stark-”

"You can't ask me to do that to him!"

"So you'd let him starve to death?"

"And what, you'd just  _ rape him _ so easily?"

"If I had to, to keep him alive... I would do whatever I had to, Stark. I assume Stephen values his life enough that-"

“Oh! So we’re doing some lesser evil shit, is that what we’re doing?”

“Stark, he has to eat! Death by starvation is a terrible way to go,” Wong frowned deeply at him. “I have no interest in men, but I am deeply invested in my friend staying alive. So I would do what I had to do to keep him that way.” Tony cast a quick glance over at Stephen, unable to see his face but immediately aware of the way his fingers curled into his pants.

“Then why don’t you take him?” Tony gritted out, focusing his attention on Wong once more.

“Of the two of us, you have the best chances of getting him out of this. I don’t know anything about the mechanical workings of that collar and it won’t respond to my magic.”

“So you’re going to just… leave him in my care, is that it? You’re going to make  _ me _ the bad guy here because I happen to be an engineer? That’s why I get to be the scapegoat?”

“You’re exaggerating. I recognize that I’m not asking an easy thing of you, but the fact that these are the questions you’re asking proves to me that you are the right person for this. You care about his well-being.”

There was a brief silence between the two of them as Tony finished off his drink and Wong stared at him. “You want to help him, Stark?  _ Help him _ . Get him out of that collar, and do whatever it takes to keep him alive in the meantime.”

“I get it! I get it, okay? Just… fucking hell, Wong, this is...” Tony’s hand ran through his hair as though to ease his stress. “Did you have any  _ other _ news you wanted to drop on me, or did you just come by for this?”

“I brought some of his clothes,” Wong offered quietly, reaching into a bag that Tony hadn’t noticed before and setting a small stack of clothes on the living room table.

“... thanks for that. Very considerate,” Tony ground out as he poured himself another drink.

“If I find anything else out, I’ll report in as soon as possible. Good luck,” Wong added, his voice becoming still quieter for a moment. By the time Tony looked up from pouring his glass, Wong was gone.

By the time Tony made it to the couch, Stephen was also gone from his spot - not that Tony could blame him. Anyone would need some time to themselves after hearing all of that bullshit. 

Tony swept the clothes off the table and let them fall on the floor as he slammed both the glass and the bottle of whiskey down on the table and hung his head in his hands.

“Fuck.”

It wasn’t as though he’d be opposed if the circumstances were different. He liked Stephen and his crush on the man usually felt like a warm fire inside his chest that was comforting and reassuring. Now it felt cold and wrong, like something poisonous was slowly freezing over and creeping through his veins in the process.

This was an entirely different beast.

Stephen didn’t have a choice here. He couldn’t consent when his options were: do or die. Those weren’t circumstances Tony was comfortable with. There was no sense of give and take, and all he wanted - all he  _ really _ wanted - was for something like this to be consensual. He wanted Stephen  _ to want him _ .

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself again as he sat up, polishing off his glass of whiskey.

He couldn’t help but wonder how Stephen was feeling about the situation given how quickly he’d fled. The thought made his insides shrivel up. 

He considered pouring another glass, looking at the mess of clothing he’d brushed onto the floor. He had to check on Stephen, that was the least he could do. Bring him his clothes and make sure he was okay, provide as much as he could… yes. That would be a sympathetic thing to do.

Even as he refolded the clothes, however, he couldn’t help but struggle with whether or not he should actually do that. 

Maybe Stephen wanted to be alone. Who knew if he even wanted to see him now? It completely changed their relationship… not that it hadn’t already deteriorated in some way anyway, but it was even worse now, wasn’t it? Tony still wasn’t confident he could engage Stephen on that level, even to feed him.

Sure, maybe he’d had a fantasy or two that involved Stephen in a collar on his knees before, but it would have been something they’d both wanted, playful contextually, and not like this at all. Hell, Tony was beginning to think his taste for collars would be ruined entirely after this experience.

With the clothes folded in his hands he slowly pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the guest room that had become Stephen’s over the last few days - and would remain his until this whole ordeal was over. A safe place for him to escape from the ongoing bullshit that was this whole situation.

Tony suspected Stephen wouldn't want to see him after that enlightening bit of information, a thought that left the brunette hesitating outside the bedroom door.

After a moment he reached to knock on it. 

The pressure of his knuckles on the door was sufficient to open it, and Tony took a deep breath as he pushed it open a little more.

"Wong left you some clothes for your stay… I'm just going to set them aside and then I'll leave you to your own devices, alright?"

A resounding silence answered him, and he couldn't exactly say that surprised him all things considered. Stephen speaking would've been the more surprising response.

What did surprise him, however, was the empty room he walked into. The bed was made, everything looked pristine, the door to the ensuite was opened and the lights were off. He set the clothing on the end of the bed and stared around in bewilderment.

"Hey, Fri?"

"Yes, boss?"

"Where's the doc?" he inquired as he headed back into the hallway, concerned Stephen had taken off or done something otherwise reckless.

"He's in your room, boss. He has been for approximately fourteen minutes."

“My room…?” 

Confusion overtook worry as he made his way to his room, finding himself knocking despite it being  _ his _ room. It took a moment for him to process what he found there.

Depending on how he considered it, he either wasn’t seeing much or was seeing a whole hell of a lot. Most of what he saw was legs and ass, though when he scanned a little more thoroughly he noticed a pair of freckles on one cheek and the dangling of the man’s balls and dick between pale, toned thighs.

It was the rest of him he couldn’t see, and that left him pointedly uncomfortable. “Hey, doc? Uh… not sure what this is…” he knew exactly what it was. He just didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, he moved around the bed to where Stephen had pressed his face into Tony’s pillow and frowned a little to himself. 

“C’mon, let’s get you up and dressed, okay? We’re… we’re not doing this. I’m not going to do that to you.” He meant the words to be reassuring, so the unreadable expression on Stephen’s face as he slowly pushed himself up and into a seated position was disconcerting to say the least. That wasn’t even touching on the way that expression became steadily more downcast as he slipped his legs over the bed and began to collect up his clothing.

“Look… I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I wish we could talk about all of this…” Tony began quietly, running a hand into his hair and turning away to give the man a little privacy. “This is a terrible situation altogether. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. I can’t just… starve you, but there’s no way to spin this so it’s not rape.”

When the rustling behind him ceased, he glanced over his shoulder to look at the kneeling man whose hands were clutching at his pantlegs too-tightly. “You’ve always had such a steadfast moral code, and everything in my life has been morally grey at best… I’m trying to do better, you know that, right? Your advice would be utterly invaluable in this situation but with that stupid collar on your neck I don’t know what to do.”

Stephen’s hand reached forward, curling lightly into Tony’s jeans near his hip. He didn’t look up, but Tony had no questions as to where he was looking and the thought stressed him out thoroughly. He knew what Stephen was suggesting - what he was  _ asking _ \- and he hated it.

He recognized the sorcerer’s desperation and could empathize with it easily enough after his time in Afghanistan. 

He gritted his teeth, sighing and reaching to brush at Stephen’s hair lightly.

“... I guess that might be sufficient? How much nutritional value can you get out of semen, anyway? Maybe that’ll be… at least something?”

“The nutritional value of semen is negligible,” Friday’s voice supplied from the ceiling, “though it does contain vitamin C, B12, ascorbic acid, calcium, citric acid, fructose, lactic acid, magnesium, zinc-”

“Thanks, Fri, but I don’t think that’s helping.” He hadn’t expected all of that information, but ‘negligible’ nutritional value was still more than none at all, which was what Stephen had been surviving on for the last few days.

Stephen gave another light tug to his jeans and Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath, moving around him to sit on the bed. “You sure about this?” A nod answered him.

That made one of them.

“Alright,” he acquiesced, looking at his jeans for a moment before reaching to undo his pants and slip them off. “Guess… we’re doing this then…” he muttered absently, shifting his knees apart and closing his eyes to try and figure out a way to actually enjoy this. 

The situation was stressful, to say the least. The idea of getting erect given everything going on seemed impossible, but he tried his best to think back on thoughts he’d had in the past. Thoughts of Stephen like this that had delighted him in the past and helped him sleep well filled his mind, and Friday - like the saint she was - played a low thrumming song that might have been something like mood music.

Stephen’s hands rested on his thighs and he felt the slight trembling of them as they crept up towards his waist, the odd sensation of the hair on his legs being rubbed in the wrong direction giving him a shiver. Or maybe that was anticipation.

“Your hands,” he started softly as the idea struck him, peeking his eyes open to watch the man who had begun to lean in. “Just… maybe just your hands? Start small and… see what works, right?”

Stephen stayed still for a long moment before he adjusted, one hand curling loosely around his admittedly rather flaccid length. He wasn’t having an easy time getting into the mood of all of this, but if Stephen was judging him for that there wasn’t any sign of it. Instead, soft palms began to work him with a fair degree of attention.

Tony’s eyes slid closed again and the music and lack of ability to see the damn collar helped at least a little to get into the mood of it. There was a lot to be said about the almost frustratingly light touches of the man’s hands on his cock, as though the man was teasing him, trying to draw this out rather than getting it over with. 

He didn’t mind, exactly, but the idea surprised him.

He could still feel himself growing harder in the sorcerer’s hands and it took him an appallingly long time to realize his mistake. His eyes shot open and in a moment he noticed the pain on Stephen’s features.

“Shit, doc, your hands…!”

He reached out quickly to rest a hand on either of Stephen’s, shaking his head. “Hey, hey that’s enough. Shit. You’re not supposed to be hurting yourself here, either… God damnit, this couldn’t just be easy, could it?” he frowned deeply. “I’d say back to the drawing board but… I think we both know the… next…”

Tony’s hands were still holding Stephen’s as the sorcerer leaned in to curl his lips around the head of Tony’s half-hard erection. Whatever else Tony had to say was lost in a startled groan as he curled in against Stephen a little, his fingers threading into the man’s hair as he took a couple of unsteady breaths.

The surprise stole Tony out of his thoughts and plunged him into the sensation, leaving him thoroughly engrossed in the feeling of a hot mouth around his cock. Stephen’s hands felt steady on his thighs where they rested, and Tony kept careful control of his hips as Stephen sunk down until his nose pressed into the carefully groomed hairs along Tony’s abdomen. He was still for a moment and Tony shuddered slightly in his spot, choking out a louder moan as Stephen swallowed around him.

He didn’t know when he’d gotten so hard. Stephen was doing something with his tongue that Tony couldn’t name, and it was pulling every ounce of sense from him. The dexterity of his tongue, the light touches and twisting of it, the lack of hesitation as he dragged it over a sensitive spot just beneath the head of Tony’s erection, leaving him to yip out a small shout - none of these were things he’d expected of Stephen.

It didn’t take long. Tony had been pent up enough and when Stephen buried himself entirely onto Tony once more, nestling his nose in against his abdomen again and swallowing, Tony came hard and fast. He hadn’t even had the time to warn Stephen as the muscles in his legs tensed and his stomach along with it. His fingers curled firmly into Stephen’s hair for a moment, though he didn’t hold him in place as the man slowly pulled back.

His fingers trailed down along Stephen’s jaw for a moment as he caught his breath and the sorcerer sat back on his heels to watch his hands.

A soft click sounded and Tony nearly missed the way the collar shifted. Any thoughts of lingering in his post-orgasm fled at that and he sat up quite suddenly, swallowing hard himself as he looked the man over.

“Are you okay? What did it do?”

“... well, it seems I was allowed to swallow that,” Stephen offered quietly, his voice rumbling, low and raw from disuse - or from what he’d done with his throat, he didn’t know.

“Geezus fuck it’s good to hear your voice, doc,” Tony sighed with relief, quickly tucking himself away and quickly getting to his feet. “C’mon, let’s get some food into you, yeah? What can we get into you quickly to help?”

Stephen stood behind him, following him into the kitchen as he took a few deep breaths. “Broth, ideally. If you have protein powder, then a shake will be fine. Water only,” the doctor stated roughly.

“Water and protein powder? Sure you don’t want milk or ice cream, or something tasty?”

“Water only,” Stephen reiterated, “my stomach won’t be able to handle more than that right now. Please.”

“Sure thing. Let’s get some grub in you… then we have a lot to talk about.”


	2. Chapter 2

For all they had to talk about, there was a lingering veil of silence in the room as Stephen drank his shake. Tony was doing his best not to stare at the man, and he didn’t exactly know how to start up the conversation or if he should bother before Stephen had finished.

Friday was running new scans on the collar to see if anything had changed, and based on the preliminary examinations it seemed that they had. The slight current that ran through the collar was different now, almost imperceptibly, but that kind of subtlety was no real feat for an AI as advanced as Friday to detect.

It wasn’t until Stephen set aside the shake container and looked at Tony that the engineer felt the knot in his stomach twisting in on itself. He knew that look meant they had to talk and he wasn’t ready.

“So, this whole situation-”

“It’s fucked up,” Stephen responded simply, his expression fairly neutral as he shrugged.

“How did you end up-”

“Is that the most important thing we need to discuss right now?”

“No,” Tony frowned, running a hand into his hair in frustration. “God there are a thousand things that are more important that I need to ask, and I don’t know how much time we even have to do it. Is this going to last?”

“Based on the ticking in this contraption, I rather doubt it.”

“Ticking?” the engineer jumped up at that, making his way over and pausing for a moment rather than reaching out. “Uh… may I?”

“Of course,” Stephen tilted his head back and Tony hesitated before resting his fingers on the metal and feeling the steady ticking through his fingers. He hadn’t heard it before, but one of the rings was shifting a little at a time. He frowned as he pulled away.

“Right, if we don’t have a lot of time then… I suppose we should figure things out. First, food. I assume there’s something preventing you from eating?”

“So it seems,” Stephen responded simply, not bothering to elaborate.

“Alright. And this took… rather unpleasant-”

“Don’t think of it as rape. In this particular instance, you’re keeping me alive. I entirely consent to that.”

“Stephen, you can’t consent to that.”

“It’s as much rape as a surgery is stabbing someone to life,” the doctor remarked, giving Tony a steady look. “Wong has the right of this situation. Being alive is preferential to dying of starvation or whatever this thing,” Stephen tapped the collar, “feels like inflicting on me.”

“Stabbing someone to life,” Tony shook his head at that, grumbling his frustration. “It’s not the same. This isn’t a medical procedure-”

“If the objection is on your side, I suppose it  _ is _ rape in a sense, isn’t it?” Stephen backtracked. “But in this situation, I’m not certain that makes  _ you _ the rapist. You’ve been put into a situation where your consent is also objectionable-”

“You’re definitely not raping me, Stephen!” Tony interjected, and the two stared at one another for a long moment, Stephen with a placid expression to Tony’s aggravated one.

“I suppose we’re at an impasse then, aren’t we? I need you to do this to keep me alive. Your guilt won’t let you just stand back and let me die a slow death. Neither of us can consent. So what do we do about it? Spend what time I have left arguing about whether this is rape or not, or try to sort through the problem?”

Tony groaned in frustration, dropping into a chair and desperately wishing he had a drink in hand. He knew Stephen was right - arguing about whether this was rape or not and who the nonconsenting side was wouldn’t get them anywhere. They were both in a shitty situation. This was mutual nonconsent. No one was winning, and it was wasting time.

He didn’t have to like it.

“What should I avoid doing?”

“I can’t use my hands,” the other man responded simply.

“That’s not exactly an answer here.”

“You tried to have me use them earlier. I can’t. Not for that kind of thing.”

“Have you… not been able to masturbate or anything since your accident?”

“Is that a question for right now?”

“Are you going to shut down every question I ask that you don’t feel like answering?”

Stephen sighed finally, rolling his eyes. “You’re right, I haven’t been able to masturbate since my accident. I’ve had to use other methods. Are you satisfied?”

“I… okay, well to be fair, we probably didn’t need to have that precise conversation,” Tony rubbed at his face a bit in an attempt not to think too hard about what ‘other methods’ Stephen employed to get himself off. It was definitely not the time. “But that still doesn’t clarify what I should avoid doing. If we have to do this, fine, but what can I do to make it easier on you?”

“Stretch.”

“You’re being a complete pain in the ass right now,” Tony frowned.

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid by telling you to stretch.” 

He hated how straight-faced Stephen managed to remain when he said those words. In any other circumstance, Tony would’ve given a hearty laugh at that. The jokes felt entirely inappropriate, and the flat way in which Stephen delivered them left Tony feeling more uncomfortable than anything.

“That’s a thought. What if… what if I perform the oral? What if I-”

“You want to service me?” Stephen’s lips twitched slightly. “You heard Wong, didn’t you? A slave collar for a sex slave. I somehow doubt that means being the person being pleasured, Tony.”

“You’re being an asshole, and you’re making a lot of assumptions about an alien species. Who knows? I’d just feel a hell of a lot less like it’s abuse if you got something out of it!”

“I get food out of it.”

“You know that isn’t what I meant.”

Silence fell between them before Tony shook his head. “Why are you making this so difficult? This whole situation is already shit, why are you trying to make it harder than it needs to be?”

“I’m not. I’m trying to keep this as simple as absolutely possible so that I don’t starve to death.”

“This is exactly what I mean! You could tell me what you like in sex, what you don’t, what kinds of things could make this easier on you, or what would literally ruin our friendship for you,” Tony started, slamming his hand against the desk before starting to pace in aggravation.

“You could let me know more about the collar itself, what you know about it, where it comes from, what kind of effects you feel from it. You could tell me any of these things to make this easier, and instead, you’re being a complete asshole about this! You’re mouthing off and-”

A thump drew his attention back to the sorcerer as Stephen dropped to the ground, wheezing out a noise of pain as he grasped at the collar tightly sounding as though he was suffocating. Tony froze in his place not sure what to do.

This was new.

“Stephen, what’s going on? What happened?”

Stepehen didn’t respond as he curled into himself tightly, his fingers clawing at the collar too much - he knew that would hurt him, and he saw the marks of Stephen’s nails peeling at the skin of his throat as he tried to free himself.

“Shit… shit, how do I fix this? Friday? What’s going on?”

“The collar began to react as soon as you raised your voice, boss,” the AI responded. “The current running through it at the moment appears to be more akin to base readings. The collar is locked. The doctor most likely cannot respond to you.”

“... fuck,” Tony clawed at his scalp as he found himself torn between gathering up the clearly suffering man and stepping away.

He’d made this happen. The collar was reacting to his moods. He could only be grateful that Stephen had managed to eat before this. 

“Why did you have to make this complicated?” he whispered to himself, doubtful that Stephen could even hear him over his own pain. Predictably, Stephen didn’t answer him.

* * *

Stephen had lost consciousness. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good. 

Tony carried him up to the guest bedroom and tucked him in before sitting himself down in the living room and trying to figure out how to fix the situation he was in.

He didn’t know if his anger had shortened Stephen’s time, and as much as Stephen had made things harder than necessary he knew it wasn’t Stephen’s fault that he’d lost his temper. 

Tony stared at the drink in his hands forlornly as he went over the data that Friday had collected, chewing over the information he did have about the situation and trying to piece things together. His options felt limited and the noose of expectations felt tight around his neck as he closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. 

Friday hadn’t reported Stephen waking up yet, and Tony knew he needed to eat more than he’d had earlier in order to balance out his losses over the last few days. Even when he woke up he wasn’t sure Stephen would want to see him, much less whether he’d be able to go through with any of what they’d talked about.

His guilt was making him feel sick. Sick enough at having touched Stephen without his being able to give safe, informed consent, and sick at having lost his temper - at forcing him to endure what he had. He was actively harming Stephen, which was the opposite of what he wanted to do.

Tony stared at his glass, his brows knit into a frown before he finished the last of the whiskey in a flash. He knew he shouldn’t be drinking but part of him hoped that this would make it somehow easier for him. Really, all it was doing was worsening the situation.

He didn’t recall falling asleep, but he gave a start at a touch to his knee and snapped his eyes open, staring down at where Stephen’s head rested against his knee gently. As usual, he knelt on the ground, though he felt the other man’s arms carefully wrapping around his calf as he rested in his spot. 

A blanket had been pulled over him at some point, and the only logical conclusion was that Stephen had done it himself. He swallowed a bit hard as he tried to determine the best course of action, his hand reaching to gently brush through the sorcerer’s hair as he exhaled a sigh.

“You should… probably still eat before bed,” he murmured lowly, and Stephen’s head nodded beneath his hand slightly, leaving Tony to squeeze his eyes shut.

He’d hoped Stephen wouldn’t agree. They both knew what this meant.

“I suppose I should do my apologies after then, huh?” Tony sighed a little, his fingers curling in Stephen’s mess of sleep-ruffled waves. “Then I can apologize for everything all at once…”

Stephen didn’t move from his spot until Tony brushed the blankets aside, at which point he stood and turned towards the bedroom. Tony didn’t realize until they entered the room that he hadn’t seen the sorcerer’s face since he’d woken up.

It wasn’t as though it was easy to read Stephen’s expressions, especially without seeing his eyes. There was something about Stephen not looking at him that made him anxious, his stomach twisting uncomfortably in its spot as Stephen knelt by the bed.

“Stephen…?” he murmured quietly as he watched the kneeling figure. Stephen didn’t acknowledge him and Tony felt his throat constrict. 

He didn’t know what to do about this situation. His hands moved to slip himself out of his pants, but the action disgusted him. The very thought of doing any of this disgusted him. His mental state was such that even as Stephen wrapped his lips around him and began to suck, Tony wasn’t sure if he could get it up.

It felt good, sure, at least in a physical sense, but mentally and emotionally he felt nauseated by what was happening. Stephen had still adjusted himself such that Tony couldn’t see his face, his hair hanging limply over his eyes as he worked at Tony’s length with very little success.

Despite Stephen’s efforts, nearly half an hour of them, Tony finally brushed Stephen’s hair back and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he choked on the words, “I… can’t.”

Stephen sat back at that, simply and easily, staring at his own hands in his lap with his face still hidden away from Tony’s view. “I’m sorry, Stephen, I… this isn’t a problem I’ve… had before…”

The sorcerer didn’t respond, remaining seated in his spot in silence, barely moving. Tony didn’t know what to do with this. Of all the times for him to not be able to get it up… Stephen needed to eat, and it was so much worse to think that Stephen had even put the effort in to give him a blowjob with no payout.

That night, neither of them ate. Stephen left the moment he was dismissed and Tony sat himself in the shower, trying to scrub away the disgust he felt with himself. He barely got any sleep, and the feeling of disgust didn’t relent by morning, leaving him plying himself with coffee despite his stomach’s protests.

Stephen continued to simply kneel by the couch as he usually did, his body shaking subtly though Tony couldn’t guess whether it was fatigue, the lack of food in his system, or something emotional. The sorcerer still wouldn’t look at him.

He didn’t know how to fix this.

Unless his body cooperated, Wong found some way to remove the collar, or  _ Tony _ figured out how to remove it, he couldn’t so much as speak with Stephen. 

How did one fix something without being able to discuss it? And even if his body cooperated, Stephen had shown he wasn’t exactly willing to be forthcoming with information.

And if he didn’t figure it out and this kept up… Stephen might starve to death.

His thoughts circled around and around and got him nowhere, and it didn’t help that when he suggested they head downstairs and Stephen wavered in his spot, he wouldn’t accept Tony’s help in staying standing. Sure, he made it to the lab without incident, but it didn’t change the way Tony’s mind responded to the rejection.

He wanted to help. He wanted for all the world to feel like he wasn’t the  _ bad guy _ in this situation, and yet neither his own mind nor Stephen’s actions backed him up.

He didn’t want to be alone in this struggle but all he felt was loneliness.

He knew he couldn’t turn to some people in this situation - Steve would likely have a lecture two weeks long that didn’t actually help the situation, for example, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how Pepper would look at him after if he explained the situation to her. Even Rhodey, he worried, would be too hardline about this, despite that he knew how often Rhodey had to deal with choosing between morally ambiguous options.

It was strange to say that one of his first thoughts had been to ask Bucky Barnes about the situation, knowing that despite their differences the man had a good understanding of how morally grey situations could happen even to people who meant well. Unfortunately, he genuinely found himself concerned about that information getting back to Steve, with whom his relationship was only really just beginning to heal anyway.

Natasha would’ve been another obvious go-to in the situation if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew her mental state at the moment wasn’t great. She’d driven herself to the edge of something pretty horrible, and asking her to help deal with this right now was definitely not what she needed during her recovery process, and Clint was officially retired with his family, so that was out of the question.

By the time he’d finished going through the list, there were only two people he considered sensible to talk to: Bruce, who might also give further insight into the collar itself and perhaps help speed up its removal, and Thor, whose cultural norms were significantly different from their own and who may have insight about how the collar worked that he hadn’t considered at all.

Of course, one did not simply  _ call up _ the God of Thunder. Bruce, on the other hand, he had on speed-dial.

* * *

_“Tony,”_ his name was strained as Bruce took off his glasses to rub at his face. “What the fuck.”

“I don’t know what to do, Bruce, I’m running out of options, I wouldn’t have called if I thought-”

“No, no no no, just… stop for a second. Don’t talk. Let me process this,” Bruce groaned a bit, looking to where Stephen knelt silently with a look of concern and frustration, before sighing. “Doctor Strange, may I…?” he inquired, reaching out a hand as though to touch him.

The sorcerer didn’t respond, and Bruce glanced at Tony briefly, receiving a shrug in response. Sighing, the rather large man grasped one of Stephen’s hands gently in his own, clearly checking over the pulse at his wrist and noting the coldness of the limbs. 

“He can’t talk, at all?” Bruce checked, and Tony shook his head.

“Not unless we… y’know…”

“Yes or no questions, then,” Bruce determined, frowning. “Are your hands usually this cold?”

Stephen hesitated long enough that for a moment Tony figured he wouldn’t answer, before he finally shook his head.

“Decreased circulation makes sense for someone who has lost this much weight,” Bruce commented, shaking his head. “And magic hasn’t worked to remove this thing?”

Stephen’s head shook another ‘no’ and Tony took the opportunity to speak as well. “I haven’t found a way to remove it properly, either. None of my tools are strong enough or safe enough to be working so closely to someone’s neck.”

Bruce’s nose wrinkled for a moment, before he sighed. “Doctor, I’d like you to lean your head forward for a moment. I’m… going to try and break it, but I still have similar concerns that if I try it may cause you harm. Are you okay with this?”

Stephen’s eyes closed, and then he nodded slightly, rolling his head forward and waiting. “This thing is really small, so I make no promises here,” he pointed out, using his good hand to reach over and attempt to crush at least part of the collar, as though force alone might be sufficient.

It seemed to take him a lot of effort, but the only result was a slight bruise blooming along the back of Stephen’s neck from where he’d tried. The metal didn’t so much as dent.

“If I try any harder, all that’s going to happen is that Doctor Strange is going to wind up hurt,” Bruce sighed heavily, sitting back in his spot and resting his arms on his knees. “I’m sorry, Doctor, I don’t really know what to do here.”

He looked at Tony, his expression still strained, as he thought over his next words carefully. “This is really bad, Tony,” he started, “really, really bad. I do not in any way envy you this burden, because I have no idea how to advise you, here. Starvation is a pretty ugly process, and we’ll need to keep an eye out for things like anemia or beriberi, both of which could have long-term effects on his well-being. This isn’t even beginning to account for the fact that Doctor Strange is already losing a considerable amount of weight, meaning his body is already working on digesting what stores of carbohydrates and fats it has available to it. The excessive coldness of his hands suggests that his metabolism is already slowing, and may begin to fail regulating his body temperature soon enough…”

“Bruce, I know. I get it. I know this is bad. I know starvation is bad. I know this whole situation  _ is bad. _ The problem is that I don’t know how to fix this! I don’t know how the collar works, and the only time we managed to feed him was doing something I’d really rather not do again - and honestly? I genuinely might not be  _ able _ to do again, given what happened last time we tried.”

“I don’t know what to recommend, Tony. Neither of these options is good,” Bruce leaned back against the couch, watching the way Stephen seemed to sit perfectly still.

“I don’t need you to tell me that my options suck,” Tony groaned to himself, hiding his face in his hands, “I need you to tell me what I can do. Am I a shitty human being for what I did before? Even with the recognition that we keep coming back to, that whole ‘starving to death fucking sucks’ thing?”

“I would say that on the whole, Doctor Strange dying is probably the greater evil here, given the magic stuff,” Bruce finally clarified, looking at Tony properly. “If… if you need me to get you something to help with the erectile issues-”

“Please don’t put it like that,” Tony whined into his hands.

“-then I can do that, but I don’t think there’s much more I can do to help, here, aside from doing some medical scans or maybe helping figure out the collar itself.”

“Most of that sounds pretty useful,” the engineer sighed, finally leaning back in his seat to stare at the ceiling. “If you’re willing to stick around a bit so that you’re on call in case something goes awry… maybe for the next round of tests?”

“Sure thing. In the meantime, Tony, make sure you’re taking care of yourself, too,” Bruce smiled softly. “Beating yourself up over this is only going to get you so far. We need solutions, not regrets.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The note at the beginning of the story has changed - if you wanted to know whether or not there will be a happy ending to this: the answer is yes. If you were wondering about the ship dynamics, while Loki will have his part to play, this will _not_ be IronStrangeFrost. I'm sorry! It just wouldn't have worked for the ending.
> 
> Thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter! 🥰

Nearly three days had passed without Stephen being able to eat, and it wasn’t appropriate to say that Tony was unaware. In fact, both he and Bruce had made efforts not to cook or eat around Stephen, and for the first day they spent nearly the entirety of the day studying the data that Friday had collected, leaving Stephen on his own.

Today had been a day not unlike that, though their studies were interrupted by an alarming notice from Friday: “Boss, Doctor Strange seems to have collapsed. His heart-rate is elevated.”

“Shit.”

Bruce brought up the medical kit as Tony took the stairs two at a time to get himself up the stairs, finding Stephen prone on the living room floor. His breathing seemed to be okay, though it took a bit more effort to wake him than he’d hoped.

“Hey, hey… you okay? You with us?” Tony inquired, and the doctor groaned slightly, though he made no more noise than that, averting his eyes from Tony promptly upon recognizing him. “Right. Okay. So, what… is this…”

“Tony, he needs to eat,” Bruce sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear it-”

“I know he needs to eat,” Tony responded through grit teeth, slipping his hands under Stephen properly and lifting him far more easily than he found comfortable. “I know, Bruce. What I don’t know is how much I can do about it.”

“... the pills,” the man offered, though his tone indicated just how much he knew neither of them wanted to talk about it.

Stephen curled up against his chest, resting his head too far under Tony’s chin for him to even begin to make out the doctor’s expression. “The pills will help me get it up, not necessarily anything else. The last thing I want is to put Stephen through that again without being able to guarantee that it results in him eating.”

“Well,” Bruce sighed softly, looking to Stephen. “Knowing what you know, is that a risk you want to take?”

“No,” Tony responded, though he found himself surprised to feel Stephen nodding. “Wait what?”

“It’s as much your decision as it is his,” Bruce pointed out, shrugging in his spot. “If Doctor Strange is willing, doesn’t that help you in the slightest?”

“He still can’t consent!”

“He’s  _ trying _ Tony.”

“Why are you encouraging this?”

“Because the man needs to eat,” Bruce groaned, rubbing at his forehead. “Otherwise we hook him up to an IV and treat him like a coma patient, and no one wants that. Besides, there’s no right answer to this kind of thing, Tony. This is an exercise in the Trolley Problem, except instead of one person dies versus multiple people dying, this is either dubiously consenting sex or a prolonged, painful death.”

The engineer turned away and headed towards the bedroom to set Stephen down on the bed. “Just… stay here for a few, okay? I’ll… I need a minute to figure this shit out,” he sighed softly, tucking the sorcerer in before making his way to the bathroom.

He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t like his options. He enjoyed being the kind of person to find another way out, but there was a life at risk. A life he had been designated to protect. A life he was failing.

He splashed at his face with water, groaning for a moment as he examined himself in the mirror. Truth be told, he hadn’t been eating very well either, between his guilt at Stephen’s lack of sustenance and his general anxiety over the situation. Of course he’d been eating better than Stephen was, but that bar was low enough to trip on, so it was hard to say how much that mattered.

Still, he looked haggard for a well-shaven man. Or maybe he was projecting his internal stresses onto his physical appearance.

He didn’t want to be the kind of person that had this shit in his closet. He didn’t want to hurt Stephen, either.

“I hate the trolley problem,” Tony muttered to his reflection, reaching to the side to grab a hand towel to wipe his face down with before he made his way out to Bruce.

“Pills.”

“What? Oh… uh…” The man dug around through his pockets, before pulling out a bottle and tossing them over to Tony. “Do you need the spiel on how this all works?”

“Please, spare me Bruce,” Tony shook his head as he caught the bottle, glossing over the instructions briefly before sighing and moving to the kitchen to grab something to take it with.

“Use a condom!” Bruce called from the living room.

“I promise, absolutely promise, that at my age I do not need that reminder,” he mumbled to himself, though he did have to take a moment to recall whether he even had condoms in his drawer. “Fri, do I have condoms in my bedside table?”

“Yes, boss.”

Well, that was one less worry. He still had 99 more, but at least one less was… something.

“I’m gonna see myself out. Let me know if you need me for anything, or… y’know, if there are any problems for either of you.”

“Thank you, Bruce!” Despite his frustrated tone, he genuinely did appreciate Bruce’s input. Though, it wasn’t exactly like Bruce hadn’t encouraged him in the direction of bad ideas before. Nor was it a matter of Bruce not making poor decisions. All Tony could do was hope that this wasn’t the worst decision in the world.

“Alright, doc,” he called as he finally made his way back to the bedroom. “Let’s get us both a good shower and… fuck, I dunno. Try to set some kind of mood, I guess.”

Stephen got himself back out of bed, looking towards Tony for a moment before beginning to slowly remove his top. Tony had expected the man to strip in the bathroom, but instead he wound up standing in his spot, dumbfounded as the sorcerer inched layers off of himself with absolute awareness of his body and angles.

Dark robes slid over broad shoulders, and some of his blatant leering was lessened as he recognized the muscle loss and just how much more slender the sorcerer was than he remembered. Nevertheless, he recognized that Stephen was attempting to make things easier for him, so he continued to try and focus on that.

He tried to focus on the delicate way the man slid his pants over his hips, and on the fact that this was the first time he’d been blessed to see the man he’d been crushing on for longer than he wanted to admit in such a state of undress. He tried to ignore the way Stephen wobbled in the doorframe as he kicked off his pants and boxers in one fell swoop by distracting himself with the curve of Stephen’s ass and the little divot where his ass met long, elegant legs.

Tony wanted to ravish that body completely. Truly, he did. But he wanted to do so with Stephen’s full, explicit consent, and no matter how he tried he could do no better than push the voice that reminded him of the truth to the back of his head.

Stephen lingered in the doorway. He didn’t look at Tony, not really, though his head was turned just slightly to look over his shoulder, and Tony knew full-well that the man was waiting for him. He hesitated in his spot before finally moving forward, not bothering to undress himself yet as he gently reached to curl his arms around the sorcerer’s bared waist, pressing the vaguest butterfly of a kiss to Stephen’s shoulder.

“... if there’s anything you want me to not do but I start to… tap me. I will stop immediately,” he promised, his tone solemn even as his fingers wandered over the softened muscles of the sorcerer’s stomach.

Stephen turned himself around in Tony’s hold, moving trembling hands up beneath the hem of Tony’s shirt. Tony squeezed him gently around the waist before releasing him to let the sorcerer remove his shirt, though he found himself surprised by the kisses the sorcerer pressed to his freshly bared chest. His shirt was discarded to one side without much thought as Tony looked down to the head of black hair with some surprise, feeling fingers trace along the greying line of hair that led from his navel down to the top of his jeans.

Cool fingers ran along the edge of his pants for a moment as the sorcerer began to kneel, before Tony shook his head.

“Okay, c’mon, at least let’s get you to a mat in the bathroom before all… that…” He cleared his throat, not sure how much of the tightening in his pants was caused by the pill, and how much was caused by Stephen himself.

He took Stephen by the wrist and led him into the bathroom, releasing him again and trying not to fidget as they entered. “You sure about all of this?”

Rather than a response, when he turned to face Stephen again properly he found the man already kneeling, his hands moving up to unbutton Tony’s jeans. He didn’t mention the way the hands struggled with the button, instead running his fingers into short black and silver locks and watching the man finally slip the button out of it’s hole to slide down his zipper.

The actions were delicate and calculated, and the angle he was reaching from made it as close to Stephen looking at him as he’d had in a while. In any other circumstances, he would’ve loved the way Stephen’s hands grasped at his pants and removed them, precise, determined. Exactly how he would’ve expected Stephen to be in a situation other than this one.

As he stepped out of his pants, Stephen’s hands twisted into the bottom of either leg of his boxers, giving them a no-nonsense tug and leaving him standing awkwardly in the bathroom with his socks on.

“Well, I’m not taking a shower in these…” Tony chuckled softly, trying to lighten his own mood. He didn’t miss the way Stephen rolled his eyes as he gestured for Tony to sit, leaning to kiss the inside of his knee, and calf as his fingers unrolled one of the socks from Tony’s foot.

Taking the suggested seat, Tony tried not to smile fondly at the actions as Stephen tossed the sock-bundle over a shoulder, leaving it to bounce off the counter and roll off towards the opened door into his bedroom. Tony’s eyes trailed after it for a moment before he lifted his other foot for Stephen with a cheeky grin. Rolling off that sock, in turn, the sorcerer tossed it at Tony in response.

He wished he’d missed the wince that crossed Stephen’s face, and the way his eyes dropped suddenly to the floor, but Stephen didn’t stop at that regardless. His hands ran along Tony’s legs and thighs gently, exploring. Tony reached over to turn on the shower, eventually getting to his feet and offering a hand to the sorcerer, before pulling Stephen to his feet and leading him into the shower.

“Do you mind if I wash you? Thoroughly?”

Stephen nodded briefly, and Tony loaded up the loofah with soap and began to run it gently over the sorcerer’s back. He followed every movement with his eyes, hyper-aware of the fact that this was the first time he’d really been able to see Stephen like this. He had a lot of questions he would have asked, in another time, in another life. His eyes traced scars, small and large, and he wondered at the stories behind them as his fingers traced after his eyes.

He watched the light goosebumps that speckled the sorcerer’s skin at the touch, between the drops of water, and suds running over the curves of his body as they were washed away. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning forward slightly to press a kiss to a spot between the man’s shoulder blades.

For a moment the sorcerer seemed to startle, and Tony held entirely still for a moment, waiting for the tapping to indicate that the action was unwanted.

Thirty seconds… a minute…   
It never came.

He pressed the gentlest of kisses a little higher, not quite to his shoulder, but close. It was when his lips barely whispered over the base of Stephen’s neck that he felt the man shudder slightly under his touch, a heavy puff of air leaving the sorcerer.

“Mmm, do you like me kissing your neck, sweet thing?” Tony purred softly, lamenting the way that the collar obscured his ability to continue such attentions. The best he could do for Stephen was to treat him with the kindness and respect he would’ve treated him under any other circumstances.

His fingers traced over the curve of Stephen’s hips, wrapping around him as they slid along his hip bones and down over his abdomen towards his groin. He felt the muscles tighten there, delighting in the fact that even someone as put together as Stephen was ticklish, and pressed another kiss to a spot he could access on the sorcerer’s neck.

“I promise, I’ll take care of you,” he whispered quietly, not sure the man could even hear it over the falling water in the shower. “I promise I’ll figure this whole thing out… so just for now… I hope you can trust me.” He punctuated the words with another kiss to Stephen’s shoulder, and his left hand reaching further to curl around the base of Stephen’s semi-interested cock.

A quiet  _ thunk _ sounded as Stephen’s forehead pressed against the wall of the shower, his hands resting against it. He could once again hear the heavier breathing, though beyond that the action didn’t elicit a noise from the man. He’d blame it on the collar, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if Stephen was a quiet lover.

Regardless, Tony reached over to one side, well within reach, to open up a bottle of lube. He wasn’t doing surprises, but distractions that felt good were always ideal with prep, he found. “Just so we’re clear, I’m gonna clean you up and stretch you out in here, alright? Just… tap if not, or if you need a minute before I start or… you know,” he sighed softly, once again waiting for the tap that never came.

By this point his body was already reacting, and whether it was the pill or his ability to touch Stephen openly and relatively freely like this. He didn’t pay it too much mind, either way, his attentions on making sure Stephen was ready and cleaned up for what came after.

His fingers moved down, his pinkie tracing over the divots in Stephen’s ass as he bit his lip for a moment, releasing it in surprise when Stephen pointedly widened his stance and arched his back. The way the water caught in the hollow of his spine as it arched was really something else, and for a moment the engineer forgot to breathe, wishing he had another hand if only so that he could trace the curve of Stephen’s spine.

He let himself forget, just for that moment, why they were really there.

He let himself forget as he carefully slid a finger between Stephen’s ass cheeks, listening carefully for Stephen’s breathing to change or for a tap of his fingers. It didn’t take long before Stephen’s hips rocked back against his finger, before Tony had even inserted it fully.

“Slow down, don’t hurt yourself,” Tony said softly, giving the man’s erection a slight warning squeeze. 

That seemed to be the wrong reaction as all it resulted in was the sorcerer thrusting his hips forward again into Tony’s hand, and Tony bit his lip, taking a deep breath to remind himself that this was not the eagerness he wanted to think it was. Regardless, he dedicated himself to distracting Stephen from the slight discomfort of preparation by continuing with strong, even strokes.

While the sorcerer seemed to have no issues with rocking his hips back against his fingers, Tony still took his time cleaning Stephen out a bit. Once he’d deemed the other man thoroughly prepared, he took a slight step back, the hand that had curled around Stephen’s cock moved to run along the man’s arched spine gently as he withdrew his other hand, and the man shivered under his touch. A light smile tugged at Tony’s lips before he backed away fully to wash his hands.

“Let’s get the rest of us cleaned up, hm?” he suggested, soaping up his hands and beginning to wash himself off a bit more thoroughly. 

Stephen pushed himself off of the wall soon enough to join him, reaching to take the soap from Tony. He began to quickly take over Tony’s job, and the engineer found himself surprised as Stephen’s hands ran over his shoulders, and chest. Tony watched him for a moment as Stephen continued to thoroughly wash him down, not certain what to do with his own soapy hands for a moment before reaching to reciprocate.

He took his time. Stephen was thorough with him, as much so as Tony had been earlier. They shook, but his hands were still soft on his skin, and more than once Tony found himself distracted from his own cleansing of Stephen by the sensation of Stephen’s palms and fingers against his skin. As the sorcerer pulled away to lather up his hands again, Tony sighed softly.

“... I miss you, you know,” he stated quietly, knowing Stephen heard him only by the way the other started to look up, his hands pausing before resuming the lathering. “Maybe it’s weird to say that when you’re right here, but… I miss you. I miss your voice. I miss your sass. I miss arguing,” he chuckled weakly.

Stephen’s hands moved to wash his hips, and despite knowing Stephen could hear him, it felt almost as if he didn’t. “I want to do right by you. I want to keep you safe, and keep you well, and I’m so afraid I’m going to screw this up, and I’m going to lose you as a friend. I’m afraid you won’t be a part of my life anymore.”

Cool, trembling hands hesitated on his hips for a moment as the man took a deep breath, before the hands slid around him entirely, and Stephen engulfed him in a hug. Tony closed his eyes for a moment before curling his arms around Stephen in return and holding him close, trying to ignore the strange conflict between his emotional state and his erection being trapped between their bodies.

The water was turned off, abruptly, and Stephen’s hand curled in his as the sorcerer pulled away, leading him out of the shower again. He grabbed a towel, bundling both Tony and himself in it and finally releasing Tony’s hand to bundle them up carefully. It was an awkward way to dry them off, and not the easiest in execution, but there was a certain playfulness to the actions, and Tony couldn’t help but feel like the man was yet again trying to reassure him.

Tony gave the man a hand getting them both dry, and took a deep breath. “Alright, shall we sort things out so that we can get a good meal in you? … or at least another shake? It’ll be nice to hear your voice again,” he added, offering a cheeky smile that he wasn’t sure that Stephen saw.

Stephen took his hand, regardless, leading him back into the bedroom easily before slipping his hand free as he crawled onto the bed. It was entirely a lie to say he was looking respectfully - it was hard to, despite Stephen’s deteriorating physiology, with the way his body moved, the way long limbs stretched out, smooth and pale across the warm brown bedspread, until he tucked himself a little to roll onto his back, his arms stretching up above his head, fingers barely brushing the headboard.

Tony bit at his lip only briefly, skittering over to the bedside table to grab both lube and a condom, and for a moment he thought he saw a shadow of a smile across Stephen’s face before the sorcerer shifted his legs some, hooking them over Tony’s hips to drag him in some, leaving him to stumble slightly, and discarding the lube and condom to the side as caught himself with a hand on either side of the sorcerer.

“Careful, I could’ve fallen on you,” Tony chuckled softly. Stephen’s legs curled around his waist, tightening slightly, though his head had tilted away to make sure he wasn’t looking at Tony. “You can’t hold so tight, or I won’t be able to get the condom on.”

The legs stayed tight for a moment before loosening, and Tony gave the sorcerer’s thigh a pat before reaching over to grab the condom, carefully opening the package and unrolling it. With a deep breath, he gathered the lube next. 

“Never enough lube, right?” he smiled absently, wanting to make this as easy on the other man as possible. “If you want me to stop, at any time, just… two taps, okay? I will stop, immediately.”

The sorcerer’s answer to that was to tighten his legs around Tony’s waist, and the engineer hummed in understanding, taking his clean hand to lift one of Stephen’s thighs to hitch over his shoulder. “Alright, alright, I get the picture.”

He was eager, in his own way. Eager in a way that made his stomach churn. Of course he wanted this - he’d wanted this for ages! - but this wasn’t how he wanted it. He couldn’t trust that Stephen would tap out if he wanted to. He couldn’t trust that Stephen  _ could _ tap out. All he could do was believe in it, and hope for the best, because Stephen needed to eat and they needed to talk.

His lubed hand reached down to settle between Stephen’s legs, pressing into him gently to make sure he was thoroughly lubed up before wiping his hand off on his discarded towel and settling himself into place. He pressed a tentative kiss to the inside of Stephen’s knee and the man twitched a bit, leaving Tony to smile slightly.

“Did my beard tickle you?” he hummed playfully. Stephen’s leg began to twitch away and Tony laughed softly, fastening it in place with his arm. “I’m not going to tickle you. Though, I will say I’m tempted.”

His smile faded after a moment, and he gave Stephen’s thigh a pat before pressing the head of his cock to Stephen’s well lubricated entrance and slid in before his brain could talk him out of it. It would be too easy to overthink it, to second-guess himself. There were ways he knew to bury and silence those thoughts, though, and while he wasn’t going to turn to alcohol, sex had always been its own distraction from self-doubt.

So he focused. From the way Stephen’s toes curled to the soft gasp of air he let out as his eyes closed, Tony was at least reasonably convinced the man wasn’t in pain. His body was relaxed into the mattress, his hair still in short wet clumps across the pillow, silver and black a contrast to the white pillow covers. He wouldn’t indulge in the frantic kisses he would have liked, but that didn’t stop his eyes from roaming the pale form against the rich brown quilt, and a hand reached out to trace over some of the ridges as he gave the sorcerer a moment to adjust.

“Y’okay?” he inquired softly, his fingers lightly following the line of a scar over Stephen’s chest. Stephen gave a slight nod and Tony chuckled. “Alright, then.”

Withdrawing to slowly begin building up a rhythm, he watched Stephen carefully for any signs of discomfort. He didn’t know whether Stephen was familiar with this kind of thing, or a really good actor, but there was no hint of discomfort in the younger man. Quite the contrary, it wasn’t too long before the sorcerer caught onto Tony’s rhythm and began to rock his hips back against Tony in an easy counter-rhythm, leaving Tony to groan softly.

Even having lost weight - or maybe especially because of it - the muscles in Stephen’s stomach were prominent as he lifted and rocked his own hips, fastening his other leg around Tony’s waist to move. On the one hand, Tony was more than happy to just watch and let Stephen do his own thing, on the other, he knew that without having eaten all Stephen was doing was burning up energy he should have been saving.

So he took things into his own hands.

Shifting Stephen’s leg down and off his shoulder, he rested it around his waist with the other leg, giving Stephen’s thigh a pat as he smiled at the other man. “Mm, let’s kick this up a notch, shall we?”

The warning gave Stephen a moment of pause before he nodded, and Tony smiled a little more. With that, Tony leaned over the man, resting a hand on either side of his chest and thrusting somewhat more firmly, reveling in the gasp of pleasure, and the slight way Stephen’s legs tensed for a moment before his head rolled back into the pillows.

Resting most of his weight on one arm, Tony reached between them, shuddering slightly in his spot as he reached the other between them to wrap loosely around Stephen’s erection. The man jerked his hips, though it did little for him with how loosely Tony held, and the engineer chuckled a little breathlessly.

A part of him wanted to drag this out, wanted to make Stephen absolutely writhe beneath him, and clutch at him desperately, and beg for release. That wasn’t going to work for either of them, however. For one thing, Stephen couldn’t beg.

Tony settled himself onto his forearm to support himself better before tightening his hold some, each thrust of his hips pushing Stephen’s own up into the tight grasp of his hand. Tony’s breaths grew ragged as he moved faster, harder, chasing both his own climax and Stephen’s. Stephen’s body jerked a little, arching against him as the sorcerer’s hands scrambled to clutch at his wrist and the blankets.

He was quieter than Tony, but his broken panting gave Tony as much as he needed, as one more hard thrust left him to press his forehead against the sorcerer’s chest, his body pushed over the edge into orgasm. The wave of it had barely begun to hit when something warm hit his hand and chin, leaving him confused for a moment before realizing that maybe his face had been closer to Stephen’s dick than he thought.

He gave a soft, breathless laugh as he slowly pulled out, pulling off the condom to discard into the can beside his bed, before gently lowering Stephen’s legs to the bed, and flopping down beside the sorcerer, unbothered by the mess for the time being.

If only it was possible to stay in that high - to stay within the bliss that should have come after. Instead, he crashed hard as reality slowly began to sink in. He held tightly to Stephen, afraid the man would leave despite being pretty sure the collar wouldn’t let him without permission.

“Please… don’t hate me,” he whispered hoarsely as he tried to catch his breath. “I don’t… want to lose you.”

“Lose me?” Stephen inquired quietly, not moving more than to rest his hands on Tony’s arm lightly. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to not be in my life. I don’t want to drive you away,” he responded softly. “I feel like I’ve pushed away so many other people in my life, people I counted on, people I cared about, people I loved… I don’t want that to be you. I’ve tried so hard to be a better friend… a better man. Now there’s all of this and… I’m afraid.”

The silence between them left Tony’s chest tight as he tried to breathe through the beginnings of a panic attack. He felt it coming, he felt the way his eyes stung, and the way the silence was far too loud in his ears, his heartbeat filling the empty space steadily more quickly. He didn’t know when Stephen’s arms wrapped around him, but he blinked away some tears and found himself pressed against the sorcerer’s chest, the peculiar scar over his heart sitting in front of his nose.

“This whole situation sucks,” Stephen stated quietly, his fingers brushing through Tony’s hair, “but I don’t hate you, Tony. Wong shouldn’t have put you in this situation. I wish I’d never... “ he trailed off for a moment, taking an unsteady breath before shaking his head. “You’re doing the best you can in a shitty situation. I don’t begrudge you that. How could I? We have to make impossible decisions every day, people like you and I…

“Every choice we make impacts how people live, if they live, if they die… That was the case well before we became heroes, but the moment we chose heroism, we also chose to have a greater range of influence on those kinds of things. I had to make that choice on Titan, and there was no good answer. Not really. Every choice I had meant someone would die, multiple someones would die… I could mitigate some of it, but not all of it. There was no choice I could make where no one died.”

“You did what you thought was best-”

“But none of those things felt like heroism. No choice in which someone died was a choice I wanted to make. I became a doctor to save lives,” Stephen’s deep voice rumbled in his chest, almost soothing against Tony’s head as he listened, “I became a sorcerer to save myself… I became the keeper of the Time Stone to save  _ everyone. _ But the fact of the matter is I picked and chose what lives I saved as a doctor. I found new meaning in my life as a sorcerer… but as the keeper of the Time Stone, I couldn’t save everyone. 

“When it comes down to it, we always have to pick and choose what we can do. You know that, I know you do. You have a choice here, a smaller scale choice than most, but a choice that’s no less difficult. Neither choice is in alignment with your morals - I understand that. But the choice is yours to make. Whatever choice you make… I won’t hate you. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather live.”

“I’d rather you lived, too,” Tony whispered against Stephen’s chest.

“Did you hate me for the decisions I made on Titan?”

“... for a little bit,” he admitted. “While I was trapped in space with nothing else to think about. I thought… you’d condemned me to a slow death by starvation…”

He stopped suddenly at that memory, squeezing his eyes shut. Stephen hadn’t condemned him to death, though. Starvation, sure. He’d already returned that punishment to Stephen without even meaning to - without wanting to.

“I don’t hold it against you. My rational mind is well aware that your choices were made with a reason, but in that moment, I hated you a little bit. Hindsight is 20/20 of course,” he sighed softly, squeezing the sorcerer against him tighter. “But even if you don’t hate me, that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to look at me or be around me properly after we get this all sorted out.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. Nothing I say can guarantee that. But it may well be that you feel the same way about me once this is all over. What I said before still stands, Tony. This isn’t just about me, it’s about you, it’s about  _ us _ . The fallout of all of this… it won’t be easy on either of us, no matter how hard we try. All we can do is try, and hope that’s enough.”

Tony huffed softly in his spot before slowly loosening his hold on Stephen. “... I can’t imagine not wanting a friend like you in my life,” he responded, though he finally released the man entirely. “If you want to get cleaned up and such… I’m not kicking you out or anything, I just… you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

“... mm, well I should at the very least clean up and get something to eat. You might also want to clean up, and perhaps clean the sheets as well,” Stephen pointed out, before slowly beginning to sit up, slipping his legs over the edge of the bed and glancing back to the bed between them. “If that’s acceptable?”

“Yes, yes of course,” he responded quickly, recognizing the inquiry for a concern about the collar. “Of course, I didn’t mean to distract you from… yes, please get something to eat. There’s a housecoat in the closet you can use if you want, food is probably more important than cleaning up…”

“Only mildly,” Stephen quipped absently in return as he stood from the bed, moving to gather Tony’s red housecoat, giving it a brief look before pulling it on. It didn’t even reach halfway down his calves, but the sorcerer didn’t comment on it as he slipped out of the room.

Tony collapsed back onto the bed and rubbed at his face for a moment before staring at the ceiling. He felt exhausted, between the physical activities and the emotional conversation, not to even mention the way he’d toed the line between being okay and a full blown anxiety attack. But there was testing to do, and while he had Stephen capable of communicating with him, there was no saying how much more they could learn about the collar.

He had a long day ahead of him, still.

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Atypicalsnowman and Bravehardt for their edits and recommendations! 💕
> 
> This is inspired by a couple of IronFrost stories I'd read ages ago that dealt with different slave collar aspects. While inspired, the intention is not to be taking things in any way beat-by-beat, and I'm not doing the "inspired by" thing mostly because I don't want people who are strictly interested in IronFrost to click a link that'll lead them to a story with an entirely different ship (probably. Maybe. We'll see how that goes.). With that said, if any of you like IronFrost and would like the links, let me know and I'll see if I can't dig those up!


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